Rose
by Bailation
Summary: A week after Rose is born, Hermione reminisces about her daughter's birth and how she and Ron decided on their daughter's name.


Rose Weasley was crying…again.

Hermione groaned next to Ron and rolled over to rouse him. He had fallen asleep with an arm draped around her waist, like he did on most nights, and she twisted free with difficulty to wake her snoring husband.

"Ron…Ron, wake up."

Ron woke like he was under attack; his flailing arms flew above his head, narrowing avoiding Hermione's face, and he bolted into a sitting position. He groped for his wand on the bedside table and mumbled sleepily, "What's goin' on? What's happening?"

She had to roll her eyes, and was glad Ron couldn't see in the darkness. "Nothing, Ron. Just Rose, it's your turn."

"Oh," said Ron rather stupidly, still only half-awake as he rolled out of bed and made his way out of the room and into Rose's, yawning widely as he went.

Hermione smiled as she thought of Ron and Rose, the two most important people in her life. She could remember Rose's birth, especially since it was only a week ago.

It had been a steady birth, and Ron was by her side the whole time. She remembered telling Ron to send a Patronus to Harry and Ginny, she needed them there. They were there in a blink of an eye, immediately after dropping James off at the Burrow.

When the baby was born, Hermione thought it was the most incredible feeling ever.

The two new parents lay in the hospital bed with their baby in Hermione's arms. She tore her eyes away from her newborn daughter to look at Ron.

"Ron, this is _our_ baby," she whispered, beaming widely at him.

"Yeah," said Ron, with a sense of pride in his voice. "We didn't do so bad, did we?"

"No," was all Hermione could say before bringing her eyes back to her child. The orange fuzz that already was growing out of her head was the exact same shade as Ron's hair.

"She has your hair," said Hermione quietly, grinning as she stroked the red hair on her baby's head that clearly identified her daughter as another very apparent and obvious Weasley.

Ron gave a soft groan of disgust. "Reckon we've jinxed her then. I hate my hair." He looked a bit gloomy and Hermione's expression softened.

"Ron, you should be proud. I really love your hair, besides," she grinned mischievously at him, "I've always had a rather soft spot for redheads."

Ron looked at her and shot her his lopsided grin. "Guess it's a good thing you married into my family, then?"

Hermione smiled. "It's a very good thing."

They looked down at their baby again and fell silent, but only for a moment. "She has your eyes," said Ron.

Hermione looked closely as she caught her baby opening her eyes for the first time, and saw the same shade of brown she had memorized in her own eyes.

"She looks like you," said Ron suddenly. "She has your face. I can see her as the cleverest witch of her age, just like her mother."

Hermione smiled, and he grinned back. He gently kissed her, and then the baby's forehead. "We love you, baby."

"We need a name," said Hermione suddenly. "We can't exactly call her 'baby' for the rest of her life."

This is where they had been having problems. For the last nine months, Ron and Hermione had been unable to agree on any names for the baby. Hermione remembered an incident when her emotions had been running particularly high.

She was sitting on their couch with her legs sprawled across it and with Ron sitting at the end. She had a book of names on her lap and was suggesting a list she had created in her head.

"Ron, what do you think of Jessica?"

"Nah."

"How about…Annalee?"

"Blargh."

"Morgan?"

"I still like Aura the best."

Hermione stood up, suddenly exasperated and furious with Ron's stubbornness. "That's all you ever say! You have to be open to other names, Ron, or this baby will never have a name!"

"Hermione, how am I supposed to be open when you won't choose any good names?"

Hermione shot him a nasty glare to cover up the fact that this was a low blow for her. "You just don't understand what a good name is! Out of the all the names you pick, its _Aura_? You have to be practical, Ron, that's such a strange name, how would people _react _to it?"

Ron glared at her, clearly stung. "What's wrong with strange? Why do you have to always worry about what others think, Hermione? It's our _kid_; the name doesn't have to be practical!"

For some hormonal-related reason, this merely fueled the fire that had ignited deep within Hermione. She approached her husband and slapped him hard across the face before walking toward the door and slamming it behind her, the regrets of their fight already swamping her insides.

She Apparated to her parents' home, forgetting it was a rather risky thing to do for a pregnant woman, and sobbed into her mother's shoulder.

"He just won't listen –" cried Hermione, feeling like a misunderstood teenager all over again.

"It's all right, Hermione…" said her mother, stroking her daughter's back as a sigh escaped her. Her parents had gotten used to Hermione showing up so unexpectedly. She had lost her patience with Ron several times throughout her pregnancy.

Hermione slept over at her parent's house, feeling too furious with Ron to face him again. Early the next morning, the doorbell rang.

Mrs. Granger opened the door and a dozen beautiful red roses in a vase floated in, directly towards Hermione, who was standing in hall behind her mother. She grabbed the flowers and saw a small white card attached to them. She opened it and read the messy handwriting scrawled inside: "I'm sorry – your big git of a husband."

Hermione laughed, and looked up to see Ron standing on the threshold, his wand out, informing her that he was the source of the floating roses. She smiled at him, and hugged him tightly, feeling her anger of the day before flood out of her.

She looked up at him and said, "I'm sorry, Ron, I was being stupid."

Ron grinned at her and kissed her soundly. "I know, I'm sorry too. We're both on edge because of this baby, and I know it'll be better when she finally arrives."

Hermione smiled and embraced him again, feeling like she had the most wonderful husband in the world.

"Hermione?"

Hermione was pulled out of her memory and back into reality at the sound of Ron's voice. It was as if she was waking from a dream, she only remembered herself mentioning names to Ron before being sucked into a reminiscing of her pregnancy.

"So what do you think?" asked Ron, his eyes searching hers.

But now, after all their arguing over such a silly thing as names, Hermione knew exactly what to name her daughter. "How about Rose?"

"Rose?"

"Yes, because of all the times you've sent me roses when I was being stupid."

Ron grinned. "Rose. Yeah, I like that. She'll remind me of you every time I look at her. The two main women in my life."

Hermione beamed. "Rose it is?"

Ron kissed her lips tenderly. "Rose it is."

* * *

"Hermione!"

She jolted awake as Ron shook her sleeping body. She had had a dream…or more of a memory…of how Rose's name began, but she couldn't quite remember the whole thing…

Ron's eyes met hers and she said, "What is it, Ron?"

"Rose is crying again. It's your turn."

Hermione realized she had fallen asleep while Ron was tending to Rose. She rolled out of bed and turned to Ron, kissing him softly and whispering, "I love you." She turned to the doorway and left to tend to her crying daughter.


End file.
